Two Prologues
by ViperKat
Summary: Two prologues/teasers for two different requests that I'll be working on.


**I have no ownership of WWE characters. I am still working on my "I Like You!" story, but thought I'd give some teasers of two requests that I've been asked to do. Enjoy these two prologues to the yet untitled request stories, if you will.**

**Prologue 1-**

John chastised himself as he lay bound and gagged, covered with a heavy blanket on the backseat of the car. He should have known better. He should have been more careful.

Cena cursed his stupidity as he thought about how it all went down.

He had stepped out of his rental car and into the hotel's private parking garage. It was very late, and he was tired. He'd been at a match, then showered etc. at the arena, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, then headed for the hotel. It had been an extremely busy week of charities, matches, working out, public appearances etc. He was eager for some much needed rest.

As he made his way to the entrance, he heard, "Hey! John Cena! Mr. Cena!"

John rolled his eyes, and thought, "It never ends. They come out of nowhere."

He plastered a smile on his face and turned. Standing there, was a tall teenage boy of about 16 or 17 with sandy brown hair. "He's going to say he's my biggest fan now." Thought John.

"Um hi…"

"Look, not to be rude kid, but I'm very tired…."

"This will only take a minute sir. My mom. She's real handicapped you know, or she'd be out here to see you. She's in our car over there." He pointed towards a car parked all by itself in the corner. "She's ..um.. not very well at all…" He looked down. "I don't think there's much time left actually. Please sir, just say hello to her. She'd love to see you."

John had felt like such an ass for being initially annoyed at the teen's presence. It didn't occur to him that the kid would be any kind of a threat.

"Sure buddy. I'll say hi to your mom."

He'd followed the adolescent to the car like some little child accepting candy from a stranger.

The young man had partially opened the backdoor and said, "She's in the back."

John had wondered absently why the kid and his mom would need tinted windows, when he was suddenly tazered from behind. As he writhed on the back seat from the jolt of electricity, the teen had chloroformed him from behind.

Cena was now starting to become fully alert again. "Mph mg meyyy!" He shouted behind his multiple gags.

The young man behind the steering wheel said, "Oh you're awake."

"Mod mammit! Met me mout mof mere!"

"Just be quiet sir. Calm down. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.

**Prologue 2-**

Vince was beyond pissed. Where the fuck was Cena?

"I swear to God if he misses one more show….." Thought McMahon.

John had been threatening to just up and take time off for months. But, no, this wasn't like him. He'd have gotten in contact with SOMEBODY. SOMEONE would have had some idea where he was.

Vince was now beginning to worry. He didn't want to cause a panic, but he'd have to send someone to find out information about the younger man, even if it was the police.

Just as he decided what he would do, there was a knock on his office door. He had no idea who it could be because his staff had left for the night. Maybe it was a custodian.

"Come in." Nobody entered, or responded. "I said you can come in." Nothing.

Annoyed, Vince walked over, and yanked open his door, ready to ask if the person was deaf.

There was noone standing there, or even in the area. However, there was a package on the floor. It was bloody.

McMahon opened the package feeling quite a bit of dread. When he reached in for it's contents he yelled, "Uh!" and jumped back, causing the rest of the contents to scatter on the floor. There was a DVD, a bloody piece of scalp with hair sticking on it, John's dog tags, and horror of horrors, a finger. That finger looked like it was wearing the ring that John always wore.

Vince's frightened mind told him, "It's a joke. Fake stuff, fake blood…." However, he could not convince himself, not one little bit.

With shaking hands, McMahon picked up the DVD and put it in one of his disc players. He watched what played out on his large screen in shock, and quiet terror.

John was on this disc. Multiple scenes of him being tortured in various ways by multiple masked men played out on the screen. A distorted voice narrated.

_Here is your golden boy, cash cow. If you ever want to see him alive again, follow our instructions very carefully. We will know if you contact the police, and he will suffer an agonizing death. As a show of good faith, we've sent you his finger, some souvenirs, and part of his scalp. You will be contacted again soon. We dare you to try something stupid._

John's screaming, and pleading, and begging throughout the recording was unbearable. At the point where John's finger was chopped off, Vince ran to his private bathroom, and then vomited.

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, John Cena lay bound, gagged, and blindfolded wearing only his black briefs, and on top of his own blood. He had been almost brutalized to the point of death.

His captors had taken him four days ago. They hadn't stopped torturing him. They'd given him no food, and only enough water to keep him alive. He was in horrendous pain, and could barely breathe because of the gags, and his bruised ribs.

The only coherent thought going through John Cena's mind was, "Somebody, please help me."


End file.
